The Water is Warm
by spikesvamp79
Summary: Murder and mayhem in paradise! Sherlock and Molly investigate, amongst other things... First couple chapters T rating, then jumps to R... I wonder why...
1. Chapter 1

The Water is Warm

*None of the characters are mine, but all the mistakes are…

He never wanted to be here. When he had begged the universe for somebody to please come to him with something to solve, he could have never predicted that this is what he would be going to do. To be fair, if it weren't for a certain meddling pathologist, he would have never even taken the case.

It had all started several months after he had returned from the dead. John had forgiven him, Lestrade had been returned to his previous status, Mrs. Hudson had fussed over him to the point of annoyance, and Molly had welcomed him back to the lab with a smile and a cup of coffee. He and John had been taking cases, though there were not as many as he would have liked. Unfortunately, Sherlock found himself on cases by himself more often due a certain Ms. Morstan that John had begun dating. Though John's absence was lamentable and he would never say, he was actually quite glad that John had been able to find somebody to make him happy.

And so it was that Sherlock found himself working quietly in the lab at St. Bart's while Molly was aiding as needed while working on her own actual job. Since his return, he ended up spending more time at the hospital with Molly than he ever had before. Part of this was due to John's spending of time with the aforementioned Ms. Morstan, and part of it was due to the calm that came over Sherlock's mind in the presence of Molly. Whenever he spent time with her, his mind was quieted. He could focus on cases or whatever needed his attention. She was always there with a cup of coffee, a soft smile, and sometimes even the answer to his dilemmas. Though Sherlock knew that Molly counted, he had not realised quite how smart she was and the benefits of her perspective.

Their respective work was interrupted when Mycroft Holmes entered the lab. He stood inside the door looking expectantly at Sherlock sitting at his microscope. After he had returned, things had been a bit shaky between the brothers, but both had been at least attempting at being civil to one another, mostly for Mummy Holmes' sake. "Yes," Sherlock spoke, refusing to look up from what he was doing.

Mycroft frowned. "I have a case that you and Ms. Hooper need to take. Several people are dead and it's all quite a mystery," he stated stoically.

"It's Doctor Hooper," he corrected, "and what makes you think that it will interest either of us?" Molly, who had been taken aback at Mycroft's desire for her to accompany Sherlock on a case, looked over at the elder brother.

"Well, to begin with, it is on a remote tropical island. There are only 200 permanent residents on the island and the rest are tourists. As it is so small, there is very little police presence, and they have a distinct lack of a coroner or pathologist. They don't even have a morgue, just one funeral home. There is only one resort on the island, and it is quite exclusive. The movement of people to and from it is rather restricted. A plane only arrives once a week, though there is a plane on the island for emergencies. The only other way is through private boat.

"In the last three weeks, three residents of the island have been murdered and there are absolutely no leads on who might be behind it. Given that there is a large British presence on the island, I was alerted to it and asked to send you, Sherlock, to investigate. I was also asked to send a coroner or pathologist, and though I could select a more qualified one, I know that you prefer to work with Dr. Hooper," he finished.

Molly turned her head down at Mycroft's comment, but before she could tell herself not to cry at his words, she heard Sherlock's reply. "First of all, there is no one more qualified for Dr. Hooper. She is the best at what she does. Need I remind you brother that it was she who killed me in order to solve the problem that you helped to create?"

At this, it was Mycroft's turn to lower his head in at least a semblance of shame. "Secondly, why should I leave England to go to some terrible little island which is overrun by tourists? I'm perfectly happy here with Dr. Hooper."

"Which island is it, if I might ask," Molly spoke for the first time. She had been emboldened by Sherlock's comment as to her ability. Turning her glance to him, she flashed him a quick smile to show her appreciation of his defense. As Mycroft said the name of the island, Molly's eyes gained a certain sparkle.

"You two would be staying at the resort, which is a five star, exclusive resort. The next available reservation is four years away," Mycroft informed the two.

"Well, if Sherlock won't go, I'm still willing to fly out and examine the bodies, if you like," Molly said, smiling at Mycroft. Even though the man insulted her work, she figured that it might just be a Holmes thing to put her down upon occasion. Her response gave Mycroft a small smile. He walked over to her and gave her the information. He then gave the information to Sherlock, who refused to take it. The smile left, and the elder Holmes set the folder next to him and walked back towards the door.

"Your flight leaves tomorrow at seven a.m., Dr. Hooper," he said. "Good day." With that, he turned and left. Molly went over to Sherlock.

"If you really don't want me to go, I won't. But I've heard of this place and it is absolutely gorgeous. I don't know about you, but I could definitely stand to spend a week in paradise. Plus, it's Mycroft, so he'll probably be paying for everything and it is guaranteed to be expensive," she said, looking at Sherlock expectantly.

"How expensive," he asked, looking at her. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. A grin lit up his face.

"Very well Molly. We'll go and solve the case. And spend a small fortune," he smirked. Molly smiled and gave him a spontaneous hug.

"Thank you Sherlock. I really need this," she replied. "I'm going to talk to Mike about getting the time off. I've plenty of vacation saved up, so it shouldn't be a problem…" she drifted off as she walked out of the lab in a daze as to her good fortune.

Sherlock frowned. His heart was racing. Why was it racing? He was in perfectly fine health. It had been a day since he had eaten, but that was not unusual for him. Was he excited about the case? Well yes, but he had yet to go over the details and was afraid that after he had done so, he would have solved it all and the trip would be needless. So why was his heart racing?

AN: I don't mean for this to be terribly long, but I've had the idea for a while and really wanted to get it down. I'm thinking 4-5 chapters right now. Hopefully will get one a day done, but if I don't, feel free to pester me. Reviews are lovely. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

The Water is Warm, Ch. 2

*None of the characters are mine, but all the mistakes are…

'It was a long flight. No, that was not nearly accurate enough. It was a bloody long flight. Nope, still not there,' Molly thought to herself. 'It was an exhausting, harrowing, disgusting, nearly life threatening, epic tale,' she thought as the boat zoomed through the water. Though Mycroft had booked them in first class, it hadn't stopped a child from turning to Molly as his parents were walking him to the back and throwing up on her. She had made the mistake of not packing any extra clothes in her carry on and thus was stuck with the now revolting shirt.

Luckily, Sherlock had packed an extra set of clothes in his carry on and had been so kind as to loan it to her given that there was no way he could be on an 8 hour flight followed by another 2 hour flight with her reeking of sick. Even after the clothing change that Molly actually didn't mind too terribly much since Sherlock's shirt had the excellent quality of smelling like Sherlock, the plane still held the odor from the child's sickness and thus they were all stuck like that for a grueling eight hours. To make matters worse, they were supposed to land in Florida and take and charter plane down to the island, but given that there was a storm above the entire state, they were forced to circle overhead for another two hours.

After an extremely shaky landing in which the Captain's skills were much congratulated, they were informed that their charter plane and all others had been grounded due to the weather. At this, Molly was sure that Sherlock would begin to go off on the attendants at the counter, but instead it was his poor elder brother who bore the brunt of his frustrations. After several rather terse moments on the phone, Sherlock announced that they would be picked up by a car service and taken to the dock, from whence they would be taken by boat to the island.

Unfortunately, the car service turned out to be a man in a van that had no air conditioning in the 36 degree weather that also came with one hundred percent humidity. By the time they got to the dock, the two were pale and both were feeling the effects of the drastic change in climate. From there, they went to meet the man with the boat, only to discover that it was actually a rather nice ship. There were bathrooms in which they could wash up and change from their adventures, and there was bunks in which they could try to get a few hours sleep.

The best laid plans of mice and men were overturned, however, when the storm moved south and followed them for several hours. Both Molly and Sherlock discovered their distinct lack of sea legs and how to deal with being sea sick. Eventually neither had anything left to give to the sea, and they fell asleep next to each other on the couch inside the cabin. It was thus that Molly had awoken from where she had been sleeping on Sherlock's shoulder. She realised that the boat was no longer thrashing about on the ocean, and she decided to venture out onto the deck to see what everything looked like in the calm.

What met her sight was well worth the journey that had just taken place. Dawn was just breaking, and as she stood at the prow of the ship, she had a front row seat to the sun rise. It was slow at first, but before she could blink, the sun peaked over the ocean and began to light up the entire sea. The colours that were changing before her eyes were overwhelming. When she had walked out, the world was grey and blue, but now pinks and reds and oranges and yellows overtook the sky and the sea making the most astounding picture she had ever seen. She took a deep breath and rested her hands on the rails next to her. It was all a bit like Titanic, and she giggled at her silliness.

"What are you laughing at," the most familiar baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Just being silly. Isn't it lovely?" she replied, not turning to look at him, since the scene before her was so captivating.

He sighed and came to stand directly behind her. He put his hands directly behind hers and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I suppose so. I'm just glad that the weather has finally calmed."

She smiled. "Yes, I didn't think it would be quite so difficult. I just can't wait to have a proper shower and sleep in a proper bed."

"Oh, and what's so wrong with my shoulder? I should have thought that would be plenty of rest after all the sleep you got on the plane." At this, her cheeks blushed pink, but given the colour of the world, only someone who knew her exceptionally well would be able to tell. Someone like the man who stood behind her.

"There's nothing wrong with you shoulder. I just want to get horizontal," she answered cheekily.

"Is that a proposition before breakfast Dr. Hooper, my how forward you are," he teased. Molly turned at this to look at him.

"No, sorry, I just meant that-"

"I know exactly what you meant, and though I do not appreciate sleep as much as you do, I agree with the sentiment. All of this traveling has quite disrupted my system," he interrupted. She smiled up at him, taking in the way that the colours of the young sun painted him. His hair, which normally was so dark in the weak, London light, was brightened considerably. Instead of black, it reflected reds and browns that gave it new life. His so pale complexion had new life to it, and Molly began to wonder if he would tan.

Just then, the captain walked up to them to inform them that they would be at the island in just under an hour if they would get their things together so that they could disembark. Molly sighed wistfully as Sherlock walked away from her to begin packing. Maybe on the way back she could convince him to do the whole Titanic thing for real with her …

AN: Oh dear, this is becoming more of a story than I thought it would be… Silly plot bunnies, leading me around. Enjoy! Reviews are appreciated. I'm going to do my best to get another chapter out tonight, so please feel free to pester if I don't! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

The Water is Warm, Ch. 3

*None of the characters are mine, but all the mistakes are…

"Breakfast is served from 7 until 9:30 and the manager's visiting hour is 5 until 7:30. If you need anything at all, please feel free to call to the front desk. Will there be anything else Mr. or Mrs. Holmes?" the bell boy asked, his hand still partially extended in anticipation of his tip.

Sherlock frowned at the man's action. "No, that will be it," he said, turning away from the man. "Actually, no, wait."

The man turned around and his posture immediately straightened up from the defeated one of only a second ago. "Yes sir?"

"I should be contacted by the police about some consulting that I am doing for them. Please insure that they are able to call on the room phone as my mobile does not receive service here," he instructed, turning back to his suitcase to begin sorting things.

"Very good sir," the man replied and left without his much anticipated tip. Molly watched this interaction and made a mental note to slip the man a few pounds. She knew personally how terrible it was not to receive a tip from someone who looked like they were made of money, which was surprisingly what Sherlock looked like despite their adventures to get here.

It was worth it though. The resort was absolutely gorgeous. The sun had not stopped shinning since they had watched it rise; the water surrounding the island was crystal clear by the shore and the most brilliant blue further out. Their room was spacious and clean, with the kitchen area having a balcony facing the east and the bedroom having a balcony facing the west. There was also a pool and hot tub outside of the western facing balcony. This was, as she had found out, the honey moon suite. Each room in the resort was its own cabin, but this was a villa. There was plenty of food for them already made as well as a rather large selection of alcohol.

Molly had been surprised when they had arrived and been greeted as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. She had looked up at Sherlock with a questioning look, but he only flashed a quick smile and resumed speaking with the clerk. From John's blog, she knew that Sherlock often donned disguises when on a case. She figured that he had decided on the façade of a married couple for this one.

As she finished her exploration of the suite, she came back into the bedroom to unpack her bag. There was only one bed in the entire suite, but there were several couches and even a hammock. She could always stay on one of them if Sherlock decided to actually sleep in a bed. Then again, if he wanted to bunk with her, who was she to protest? She shook her head. Better to leave those thoughts packed deep away and not get her hopes up about something that would never happen. "Well, I'm going to change and go lay out by the pool since we really can't do anything yet," she informed Sherlock from where he sat in a chair by the door.

"Hmm, yes, alright," he muttered, clearly going into his mind palace. Molly grabbed her blue bikini and went into the en suite to change. Soon she emerged with a bottle of sunscreen and went over to the man who was so deep in thought.

"Sherlock," she spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. She had put her hand gently on his arm, knowing that he did not respond well when he was pulled back to reality. "Sherlock, can you put sunscreen on my back? I don't want to burn," she asked as he turned his attention to her. He nodded, and handing him the bottle, she knelt down in front of him so that he had easy access.

"I don't believe that the chief will call till tomorrow or expect us to do anything until then. We can go to dinner at the resort center tonight if you like," he said as he rubbed the lotion into her skin. Molly was having trouble responding though, since not only was a man massaging her entire upper back, but it was a man who she had wanted to touch her for so long. His hands were incredibly strong as they ranged over her back, applying pressure in all the right spots. "Molly," he asked, stilling his hands.

"Yes, yes, that sounds fine. Sorry, I'm just a bit lagged from all the travel is all. Dinner sounds great," she responded, pulling away from him. She stood and smiled at him and went out to lie in the sun.

After only a few minutes, Molly found herself fast asleep. It was only when she felt a rather large splash that she awoke. Pulling herself out of the daze, she looked at the pool to see what had made the splash and was met with quite a surprise. Sherlock's head broke through the surface as he stood at the opposite end of the pool and shook his head. He turned to her and smiled. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked.

"Yes, but it's fine. I needed to flip over anyways," she replied and moved her chair so that she could watch the pool from where she lay. Once she was settled, she reached behind her to untie the top in order to achieve a perfect tan.

Sherlock watched her actions and was surprised at how much he wanted to get her to sit up without the top tied. Indeed, when she had come out of the bathroom in the bikini, the sight alone had pulled him from his mind palace, though he greatly appreciated her method of pulling him out of it. John usually threw something at him or shouted. It could be very alarming, so Molly's way was definitely preferred.

He returned to swimming for a bit and then went up to sit on the other chair next to Molly. She turned her head back to look at him. "I didn't know you enjoyed swimming so much," she commented.

"Well there aren't many places to do it outside in England, and I prefer swimming outside only. I really don't like indoor pools. Plus, there is something about this place that makes me feel a bit like a pirate, which is always an enjoyable feeling," he grinned.

"A pirate? Really?"

"Yes, I wanted to be one when I was a child, before I had come to grips with the reality of the world. I can't say I would be opposed to turning to piracy if I ever retired of consulting. Piracy or bee-keeping."

Molly smiled. "I always wanted to be a horse or a unicorn."

"Don't you mean that you wanted a horse or a unicorn?"

"Nope, wanted to be one. Having one would have been great, but the actually being of a creature that is so majestic would have been amazing. I love the way that they move and flow, especially when at a full canter," she said, turning back to gaze at the water.

"Its getting on in the afternoon. If you don't mind I'll shower and then get dressed for dinner first. I'd like to take a look around the area and then I'll come back to take you to dinner after you've showered," he said, getting out of his chair to go inside.

"Sounds good," she said, turning away to let her mind wander over pirates and bees.

Sherlock stepped out of the bathroom fully cleaned and ready for a respectable evening out. He had worn his purple shirt, which he had known was Molly's favourite. He went out to inform her that he was done and that she could get ready when he saw her floating in the pool with her eyes closed against the sun.

Her hair formed a halo around her head as she lay relaxed. She drifted slowly as her arms and legs made small movements in the water. He watched as her hands began moving underneath her lower back and then came up to graze over her lower stomach. He saw the muscles jump and leap as she touched the sensitive area. As she did this, her mouth opened to allow a small gasp to come out. He continued to observe her as her hands continued over the same area and over her breast, gently the teasing each mound as they passed.

It was thus that he found himself with an elevated heart beat once again. He also felt his pants grow a bit tighter as he realised that the cause of both of these was Molly. Was he attracted to her? Did he want to be in, God forbid, a relationship? Could he trust her with his sentimentality? Before he would allow himself to be overtaken with these questions, he cleared his throat, which brought Molly up from her trance. "Oh, sorry. How long have you been standing there," she inquired, clearly concerned that he had seen her touching herself.

"Not long at all. I'm off to investigate if you'd like to shower. I'll be back to escort you to dinner. I've already made reservations," he stated, trying to take on a tone of casual indifference.

"Alright, I'll be ready," she said with a smile as he left.

AN: Ok, so my plot bunnies tell me that it's now going to end up being like 9 chapters. Thanks bunnies. I only have to move cross country in the next two weeks… I hope to have another chapter up tomorrow or Tuesday. If not up by Tuesday, feel free to pester until I do it. Thanks for the reviews! Hope you are enjoying it all!


	4. Chapter 4

The Water is Warm, Ch. 4

*None of the characters are mine, but all the mistakes are…

*Rating goes up this chapter!

Sherlock cursed his stupidity for leaving his pocket magnifying glass back in the room. He had been forced to put it in his checked luggage bag and had yet to get it out. He made his way back to the suite knowing that even if he went without it for looking into this one thing, he was bound to need it sooner or later. With only this thought in his mind, he opened the door to the suite and was about to go into the bed room when her heard a moan.

He frowned. The moan was definitely coming from Molly but it did not sound as though she had hurt herself. In fact, quite the opposite. Molly seemed to be having a rather good time. Peeking in, Sherlock saw Molly laying on the bed. Her towel lay on the floor; her freshly washed hair was spread on the pillow. She had yet to put on any clothes and was touching herself between her legs. Realization dawned heavily on Sherlock. Though he did not often engage in these practices himself, he understood that they were fairly regular in other people.

He also knew that it was something to be done in private, so he began to turn away, stopping only when he heard something. There it was again. "Sherlock," Molly gasped, as her movements became more and more frantic. "Sherlock please," her voiced pleaded. He turned back around to watch the spectacle. Molly continued calling on him and pleading until she was only capable of gasping and making a rather pleasing keening noise. It was thus that she finished and began to run her hands lightly over her stomach and sides, enjoying the sensations from her overly sensitized skin.

Sherlock gulped and quickly turned away. He knew that if he was caught all hell would break loose. He walked quietly out of the suite and back down the hall. Acting like a typical man for a very rare occasion, he made his way to the bar and ordered a whiskey.

Though social norms often seemed ridiculous to him, he was certain that by watching Molly pleasure herself he had crossed a line. This is what he actively was thinking about; however, his mind kept returning to the sight of her head thrown back in pleasure with _his _name on her lips. He had a sudden and unbidden desire to watch her do this as he pleasured her. He wanted to watch her come undone from actually being with him, not just the thought of him.

Realizing that these thoughts were neither productive to moving past the incident or preventing a bourgeoning erection, he placed them in a closet in his mind palace. Eventually he would come back to them but not now. Now there was a case and trying to get Molly to agree to masquerade as Mrs. Holmes and wear his mother's ring.

He wasn't sure why he had asked Mycroft for mummy's ring rather than simply purchasing something simple. He had always liked the look of it, and why go out and purchase something when there was a perfectly acceptable alternative at hand. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that nearly an hour had passed while he had been so occupied in his mind palace. Figuring that Molly would most definitely be ready, he headed back.

'Scarlet Harlot' or 'Patient Pink,' Molly wondered. While she certainly enjoyed the vibrancy of the red and the effect it had on her appearance, she knew that Sherlock preferred the pink. Though she had been trying very hard lately to work on dressing for Molly, not for Sherlock, she couldn't help wanting to do it anyways.

Sighing, she went with the safe option and put on her lipstick. She had picked a navy blue cotton dress for the evening. It didn't need pressing after being shoved in a suitcase, and it looked elegant without being too over the top. She had put on minimal jewelry and makeup, going for a natural look. The sun had put some colour in her skin and hair, so she felt like she didn't really need to add anything.

Just as she slipped on her sandals, she heard the door open and Sherlock come in. "I'm just about ready. Let me find my bag and then we can go," she said loudly, trading her large green stripped bag for a smaller one.

Sherlock knocked on the door. "May I come in?" he asked.

"Course. I'm decent," she said, smiling at him as he came in. The frown on his face disappeared as he took her in. 

"You look lovely Molly. You made the right decision with the pink. The red should only be worn with a very limited palate and the navy does not work with it. Charcoal or black may do well," he informed her, speaking rather rapidly.

"Umm, thanks, I guess," she replied. "Listen, I was going to ask you, why did the bell hop say Mr. and Mrs. Holmes? Is it for the case?"

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Yes, I actually was going to speak to you about that." He pulled a box from his pocket and offered it to her. "A couple staying in a honeymoon suite, in and out at all hours, traversing throughout the island, asking questions of locals and other tourists won't seem suspicious at all. Of course the police know who we really are, but I thought that this might ease our progress."

Molly hadn't heard a word that he had said because she was staring at the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. "Molly, Molly, are you alright," Sherlock's voice broke her daze.

"Umm, yes, no, I'm fine, just fine," she mumbled. "Sherlock, where did you get this?"

He shrugged and ran his hand through his raven locks. "It was mummy's. Your hands are the same size as hers so it should fit without a problem," he said, taking the ring out of the box. He took her hand into one of his and then slid the ring onto her finger. It fit like it was meant to, perfectly.

"Its gorgeous," Molly breathed.

Sherlock coughed. "Yes well, do take care. You don't want to know how much that ring is valued at."

Molly's smiled lessened. "Right of course. Shall we?"

'It shouldn't feel so right on my finger. It shouldn't look so right on my finger. Damn it Hooper, Sherlock Holmes is using you because you're convenient. He's more concerned about the ring on your finger than you. Now pay attention to the details he's giving you about the case and stop crying on the inside. You can do that when you're alone and not before then. No, no, not before them, DAMNIT MOLLY HOOPER! Well, don't do it in front of him,' her inner voice trailed off.

"Sorry, I'll be right back. Excuse me," Molly said, getting up from the table and heading to the bathroom. She felt a tear leak out before she could get there. Once safe, she took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. Time to get to grips with reality, as another tear dripped down.

Sherlock had cursed himself the moment he had chastised Molly about being careful with the ring. Of course she would be careful. He was rather certain that there was nobody else in the entire world who was as careful as Molly. He knew that his words had cut her to the core as she had been struggling not to cry throughout dinner. Sighing, he knew he needed to apologize and make up for his actions.

Before long, Molly returned, her eyes slightly red and her makeup slightly smudged. "Sorry," she apologized, sitting down and looking up at him.

"Molly, there's no need for you to apologize. In fact, I should be the one doing that. I should not have inferred that you do not know how to take care of something valuable. You are one of the most cautious people I know, and I do trust you. With that ring and much more," he spoke, taking her left hand in his. "Please forgive me." With that, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss right below the ring.

Molly smiled. "It's alright Sherlock." The mood suddenly seemed to be a bit awkward as both focused on their plates which were mostly empty. The server came over to see if they wanted any dessert, which Sherlock ordered sent to their room. Molly was perplexed as to what he was getting at as he smiled mischievously at her.

After he had paid, he stood next to her chair and offered her his arm. Molly gladly accepted it, even though it made them look rather old fashioned in the room full of relatively younger people. Though holding hands might have seemed more culturally natural, Molly thought that taking Sherlock's proffered arm was much more meaningful. He was nothing if not a classical man, and giving her his arm was his version of holding hands. Plus, it made her feel like a lady rather than some love sick couple.

As they were walking back, she turned to go on the bridge toward their room when Sherlock pulled her in the opposite direction. When she inquired as to where they were going, he only smiled and kept walking. As they came around a corner, Molly realised that he had been leading them to the beach. The moon was full and shone with a pure brilliance on the empty beach. There were torches dotted sparsely, but their way was lit primarily by the light of the moon.

Molly sighed at the romance of it all. She had become hopeful again after Sherlock had apologized and took her arm, but even through her hope, she knew that Sherlock just wasn't that kind of guy. He could certainly act like it, but it wasn't who he truly was. He might walk with her on a moonlit beach, but it wasn't for the ambiance or because he was going to kiss her afterwards. They weren't going to go back to their room and feed each other strawberries and cream and then make love in front of the fire. Sherlock was not Molly Hooper's happily ever after, she was sure of it.

Those were the thoughts running through her head when Sherlock suddenly stopped and turned to her. "Molly, I-," he broke off, looking out to the ocean. Molly looked up at him. She didn't want to hear him say how he appreciated her friendship and partnership on cases. She didn't want to hear him say that he liked her as a friend but he just didn't feel that way about her. So she kissed him.

AN: Hello lovely readers! I do believe this might be my most popular story so far and this makes me super excited! Thank you so much for reading and following and reviewing and encouraging my plot bunnies. They've really enjoyed your carrots. Just a note that the focus of this story really won't be so much on the mystery/crime aspect so much as it will be on the Sherlolly in paradise aspect. I've done my best to map out the crime and everything, but I'm definitely not ACD, or Moffat, or Gatiss. I think I'd like to try my hand at focusing on the mystery aspect of a Sherlolly story someday, but right now this is what needs to be written. And this AN needs to be ended. So anyways, thanks again and I will try to update tomorrow, but am closing again at work and might be too tired. Thursday should see an update for sure. If not, feel free to pester! And scene.


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